Draculas (11 page)

HE couldn't get enough of the blood.

It had the same punch as coke. The same rush as an orgasm. The same high as morphine. The same satisfaction as a huge meal when starving. All wrapped up in one overwhelming sensation that made Lanz's eyes roll up and his body quiver in absolute fucking ecstasy.

But the feeling didn't last. The moment the blood ran out, so did the jolt. And in its place was a longing, an ache. That ache became painful after just a few minutes, and the pain turned into crippling, mind-searing agony, getting worse and worse until more blood was consumed.

The part of Lanz's brain that still had some higher functioning recognized the symptoms of addiction, but also knew this was something more. He'd become a higher life form. Sharper vision and hearing, a sense of smell so powerful he could detect a drop of blood from a hundred meters away, faster reflexes, accelerated healing power, abnormal strength.

But unlike the other infected, who seemed to be operating at a reduced mental capacity, Lanz still had some reasoning powers, and some memory of his previous life. He realized this could have been due to the locus of the disease. The others were all infected intravenously, the agent making direct contact with their bloodstream. Lanz had ingested contaminated blood. This could have resulted in a different variation of the infection. Different transmission meant different symptoms.

Medicine certainly had precedents for this. Yersina pestis--known as the black plague--was a bacteria that could infect a host in three entirely different ways, and cause different symptoms as a result. Perhaps this dracula bug was similar.

Or perhaps Lanz's strong will and extraordinary intelligence were too much for the bug to cope with.

Either way, Lanz felt like the proverbial one-eyed man in the land of the blind. While other creatures ran around, blithely attacking anything that moved--people, each other, and even themselves if the blood urge became strong enough--Lanz could still use his cognitive faculties.

As the disease spread, turning more humans into creatures, Lanz decided competition for blood was getting too fierce. But he knew of a good source. A source that would be like picking low-hanging fruit from a tree.

Pediatrics.

Children would be easy to catch, and not put up much of a fight. Plus, there was an added bonus.

That bitch nurse, Jenny, had said she was headed to the pediatric ward.

Lanz would enjoy tearing her sanctimonious throat out.

He'd enjoy it quite a bit.

SHE'D fought a long and valiant battle against the diabetes, but it had finally claimed her right foot, the infection spreading into her blood, sepsis hours from killing her before the amputation.

Now she rested peacefully in a morphine slumber.

Fresh, clean blood flowing into her body and dreaming of a picnic she'd had just last summer up at Vallecito Lake, her two sons with her, and their children, the apples of her eye--six-year-old Benjamin, and eight-year-old Vicki playing by the shore. Grandchildren. Was there anything better? They were like your kids, but without the hassles. A perfect relationship, a dynamic where everybody won.

A crack ran through her dream like a fracture through glass, and she could feel herself tumbling out of it, the phantom pain in her right foot spoiling the memory.

She opened her eyes, but she must have still been sleeping because what she saw made about as much sense as a nightmare.

A little girl who looked to be the same age as her precious Vicki was standing at her bedside with her back turned, sucking down the chilled contents of the blood bag through the needle that had been attached to her left forearm.

It was an image that simply didn't compute, and because of this, she was certain she was dreaming, but God, it
felt
so real, especially the pain in her right foot, or rather, where her right foot had been. Maybe if she tried to speak, to engage the little girl, it would shatter the illusion of the dream and she would wake.

"Excuse me. Little girl?"

The little girl didn't answer or even move. Grammy Ann eyed the blood bag, watching the level of the dark liquid quickly lowering.

"Little girl?"

Then there was only a sucking noise, like slurping down the dregs of a cup of soda.

"Little girl?"

The girl let go of the clear, plastic tube and turned around.

Grammy Ann recoiled, the beeping of the heart monitor accelerating.

Oh God, that face!

This was a nightmare. It had to be. Those black eyes, the shredded cheeks, the long, terrible teeth, shellacked with blood.

She reached for the NURSE CALL, her thumb punching the button over and over.

It happened so fast, the movement was catlike--the little girl leapt off the floor and came down on Grammy Ann's chest, blood running down her chin.

Her head tilted, and her lips moved, an awful noise coming out of them that sounded like a question in some demonic language.

Grammy Ann screamed, "Nurse!"

"CAN I have your red candy?" Oasis asked, and she asked nicely, like the nicest she'd ever asked for anything, but the old woman only screamed.

She would have been gentle, or tried at least, but the screaming hurt her ears, and so she lunged into the woman's neck, and the screaming got louder, the woman pulling her hair now, and she was strong.

It wasn't fair!

The old woman jerked Oasis's head back before she could dig in, and hit her in the cheek.

Oasis roared and swiped one of her talons at the woman's face, but it missed and sliced across her neck instead, and suddenly--

Red candy everywhere!

--and the old woman still flailing and thrashing but the smell and taste of the red candy drew Oasis in and she was at the woman's neck again, biting, tearing, sucking, the blows still coming, but slower and softer, and the screams dissipating, and then the old woman lay still, and Oasis didn't have to struggle anymore.

Instead, she just curled up beside the old woman, whose arm was around Oasis, and, come to think of it, it reminded her of her Grandma Betsy, and it was just like those times when she stayed at Grandma's house and Grandma would read a book to her before bedtime, except instead of cozying up with a book, it was cozying up with that delicious red candy running out of Grandma's neck, right down into Oasis's throat in a steady stream, and she lay with the old woman in her bed for five minutes, until the last of her candy was gone.

ADAM walked into the room and locked the door after him.

He sat down on the bed, offered her a shard of ice.

"How you feeling?" he asked.

"Gigantic," she said.

"Stop it, you've never been more beautiful."

The water felt so good sliding down her throat, despite the micron-size portion.

"You just locked the door," she said. "What's that about?"

"Just hospital procedure when there's a disturbance. Nurse Herrick came back. Do you need anything else?"

"I'm all right for now."

Stacie thought he seemed distracted, and she was about to ask him what was wrong, but he was already up again, heading toward the door.

"Where are you going?"

"
I'm
thirsty now." He smiled, but there was anxiety in his eyes. She'd seen this before--his strong face. Hiding pain with a smile. God forbid anyone ever think a minister could have a hard day, a sleepless night.

"They had some apple juice in the Fridge," he said. "I'll be right back."

ADAM came up behind Nurse Herrick at the entrance to the maternity ward. The double doors were closed, and she was kneeling, fighting to slide a lock into the floor.

He stepped up to one of the small, square windows at eye level and stared down the corridor on the other side of the door.

Empty.

Nothing moving.

Linoleum floor shining dully under the ceiling panels of fluorescent light.

"Please don't mention this to my wife."

"You haven't told her
anything
?"

"Just that there was a disturbance and we're on a mandatory lockdown. Have you informed the other patients on the wing?"

"Yes. Well, sort of. I told them there was an outbreak in the ER, and we all have to stay put until help arrives."

"How many in this wing at the moment?"

"I have a single mother who's alone in her room."

"So it's only the four of us?"

"Yes."

Adam pushed the deadbolts up into the ceiling and glanced once more out the window before turning to Nurse Herrick.

"Can you deliver our baby?" he asked. "If the time comes and there's no doctor?"

"Yes." She wiped her eyes, crying again. "I'm sorry." Her hands had begun to shake.

"What exactly did you see down there, Carla?"

"I can't..."

"Do you want me to pray with you?"

She nodded, and Adam took her hands in his, had just opened his mouth when a scream came rushing up the corridor beyond the doors.

It didn't sound human.

Felt like someone had run a cold finger down Adam's spine and he took an involuntary step back.

"What's out there, Carla?"

"I don't know."

"Can these doors stop it?"

"I don't know."

A thunderous succession of gunshots splintered the silence several floors below.

Adam stepped toward the window in the door.

The view through the single square foot of glass was of a long corridor that extended for a hundred and fifty feet to a sitting area.

One of the fluorescent lights halfway down had begun to flicker.

A figure appeared at the far end, turned the corner, and sprinted up the corridor toward the double doors--a woman in black scrubs and white tennis shoes, her curly brown hair pulled back in a scrunchie.

Adam could hear her crying and gasping, and she'd covered twenty strides when three others ripped around the corner in pursuit, chasing her, fast and low to the ground like pit bulls.

Carla whispered, "Oh God, that's Pam from Radiology."

Three seconds, and they were upon her, bringing her down in a violent tackle under that flickering light, the woman screaming, pleading for them to stop.

"We have to help her," Adam said, reaching up to retract the top lock.

The nurse grabbed his arm.

"There's nothing we can do."

And they stood watching through the windows as two of the creatures held Pam from radiology down while a third swiped a bone-white talon through her jugular.

A stream of dark blood rushed out across the floor and they screeched and descended upon it, lapping it up off the linoleum with a ravenous intensity as their prey's twitches became more sluggish.

"Dear God in heaven," Adam said.

The creatures fastidiously sucked up every drop of blood, their long, black tongues digging into the crevices between linoleum tiles.

They had human hair and human clothes, but there the similarity ended, their faces literally exploding with prehistorically savage teeth and their hands deformed into talon-like claws.

The blood was gone, like someone had spit-shined the linoleum to a high-gloss sheen, and then one of the creatures looked up, down the length of the corridor toward the maternity wing.

Adam grabbed Carla's arm, pulled her down.

Too late--footsteps already on the way, claws clicking across the floor.

Adam and Carla plastered themselves against the door as something bumped against the other side.

Adam craned his neck and looked up, saw a nightmare face peering through the window.

He whispered under his breath,
The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not--

Something crashed into the door, set the bolts rattling in their housings.

Five seconds elapsed.

Adam's heart slamming in his chest.

It came again--twice as hard, enough force to jar them both onto the floor.

Adam reached into his shirt, came suddenly to his feet, knees like jelly, but he spun around, despite the fear, and held up a small gold cross his father had given him on the day he'd graduated from seminary.

The monster running toward the door pulled up short two inches from the glass.

Its head tilted to the side--a fleeting moment of curiosity as its breath fogged the bloodied window.

Adam pressed the cross against the glass and spoke with as much authority as he could muster, "By the power of Jesus Christ--"

The talon that punched through came within a half-second of driving into Adam's eye socket, but he parried out of the way, the thing screaming now, trying to climb through the square foot opening, jagged glass slicing into its head, but the moment the blood began to flow, the creature was sucked back out of the window.

The two others ripped it apart amid a chorus of screams, took less than a minute for them to fully exsanguinate the creature.

When they'd finished, they crouched motionless for a moment, as if briefly at peace with the glut of blood filling their stomachs.

One of them turned and looked at Adam and Carla. It stood, then ambled over, stopping ten feet away. It wore a knee-length, floral-print dress, its blond hair still pinned up with silver barrettes.

Adam realized its black eyes weren't looking at them. They were studying the doors, the locking mechanisms.

At length, it turned away from them, cried out to its companion, and the two monsters loped back down the corridor.

Adam looked over at Carla when they had disappeared around the corner at the far end.

"We have to barricade this door."

He turned to head back toward the nurses' station, but stopped in his tracks.

Stacie stood twenty feet away in her hospital gown, hands cupped around her enormous belly, a look of pure horror on her face.

"SHERIFF, Lanz wasn't kidding. There's a bunch of monsters in the hospital."

He stood by the open rear of his Suburban with his cell pressed against his ear. He'd thought a few moments before making the call. Decided not to say that formerly normal people were turning into those monsters. First he had to get the sheriff on board with the simple existence of the monsters.